Quite Unusual
by p y n q u e
Summary: Drabbles on couples I don't usually ship. Chapter two - Cassandra&Alonzo: "No, Alonzo, I'm not sure." Discontinued.
1. Coricopat&Jemima

_I am practicing writing couples I usually stray away from. These are mere drabbles and will be _very_ short. There will be fem/slash, but I will warn you if you don't like that stuff.  
_

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She was perfect. The picture of innocence, beauty, kindness. Her big brown eyes shone in the moonlight, and the psychic found himself hypnotized. Her voice was high, crisp, angelic—_amazing_. Jemima was everything he could ever want. And really, that's why he believes he doesn't deserve her.

Not like he'll stop loving her. Jemima is one of the few cats who doesn't see him as simply "Coricopat, one half of the psychics" or something. She sees past the synchronization, sticks with him instead of his more talkative sister, or some other social butterfly. Tantomile steals the show (to some extent, though Coricopat never harbors bad feelings), and Coricopat is left to be his moody, psychic self. But Jemima stays behind, tries to strike up a conversation with the less-than-normal Coricopat. At first, the tom almost found her kindness annoying. But in the blink of an eye, Jemima's bright personality warmed his heart, and he found himself in love.

Of course, there is still doubt. Jemima could have any tom in the tribe (if she put her mind to it), and yet she chose Coricopat. The psychic was convinced he was nothing special, but as Jemima plants a butterfly kiss on his cheek, Coricopat thinks he might be just a little _awesome._


	2. Bombalurina&Plato

_Bombalurina&Plato. Note that I __hate_ _the whole "I'm leaving you for [insert name] because you suck" thing, so I usually try to make break-ups somewhat mutual._

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It was strange, to say the least, for Bombalurina to feel this way. The butterflies in her stomach, the warmth of her cheeks. She felt like a kitten at her first Ball—which she was far from. It was embarrassing—however, Bombalurina was an actress, and a damn good one, so she hid it with ease.

When they were in public, of course.

Alone, Bombalurina giggled and, to her horror, snorted, and smiled and blushed and had an amazing time (_if you know what I mean_). Not that it didn't still feel weird—I mean, he was… how could she put it? He wasn't like the Tugger, not in the least. And before you go thinking Bombalurina left the Tugger in a flurry of tears and _Come back, babe_s, it was strangely mutual and awkward (and the Tugger had felt like a kitten, just like Bombalurina does now sometimes).

Sure, the two cats had a decent relationship for a little while, but it was kind of boring. Pretend to be in love all day and leave to be with other cats as soon as the sunset. And for Bombalurina, that other cat was Plato.

There was speculation at first—What about Victoria? She had other toms. What about Tugger? He had other queens. Why the _heck_ did those two choose each other? Plato and Bombalurina will never know and they'll be content not knowing—though Bombalurina thinks it has something to do with those eyes of his.


	3. Cassandra&Alonzo

_This time it's Cassandra&Alonzo. I'm trying to keep this at K…_

**Note: **_These are not supposed to be crack pairings, merely popular pairings I don't ship. And, if I run out, maybe some odd couples.  


* * *

_

She was a jerk, and he was annoying. So cheerful and immature and unbearably _sexy_. And Cassandra? Thin, sleek, mature—and bashful. Alonzo always knew what to do to make her lose her cool and look like a dork in front of the Tugger, or Munkustrap, or her too-cool cousin Exotica. It was terrible, the way her face heated up and her teeth clenched. It was unattractive, and Cassandra was always about being attractive.

He'd play with her words and twist them around to mean the most absurd things. _Oh, so you really do love me, ey, Cassie? _Which—though she'd never admit it—was right. She loved him so much it hurt, when she saw him flirting (he wasn't hers, so who was she to complain?) with _Jemima_ or _Bombalurina _or any other queen he could flirt with that wasn't occupied with the Tugger. However, she wouldn't let it show. Cassandra was lucky, her eyes were "unemotional" (which the spotted tom himself said) and didn't show anything when she wanted to break down and cry or slap someone. Though sometimes it was a burden, because her smiles never reached her eyes and everyone thought she was always pissed (_just because my eyebrows are angled..._) or Alonzo couldn't see the pain in her eyes when he did... well, anything that didn't concern her. She felt so immature because of that, but it was true.

And at this point in time, Cassandra was hoping her emotions matched her eyes. The beautiful Abyssinian found herself leaning against a wall, arms crossed, desperately trying to stay calm, as Alonzo's face was inches from hers (_I remember when we were kittens and I thought you had cooties_) and his hand pressed against the wall next to her head. She prayed he wouldn't touch her ear or something, she'd freak out—either slap him or do something monumentally embarrassing, like start to purr. But she needed to focus—on not blushing or freaking out. She was _Cassandra_, and Cassandra didn't freak out... Except when it came to Alonzo.

"So… will you admit it? That you love me?" The black and white tom said, his voice annoyingly calm.

"I can't admit something that's not true." Cassandra shot back, but the blush on her face betrayed her.

"_Not true…? _Are you sure, Cassie?" Oh, how she hated it when he called her that.

"No, Alonzo, I'm _not_ sure."


End file.
